


A Chill Kind of Day

by celestialqueer



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cute, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Falling In Love, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Love, M/M, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Romantic Fluff, its 6am im so tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 21:09:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20160139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialqueer/pseuds/celestialqueer
Summary: its a rainy day in london and our favourite angel and demon is having a nice day in.





	A Chill Kind of Day

**Author's Note:**

> just some fluffy fluffy fluff- hope you all enjoy <3

It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon, the third Tuesday after the failed Armageddon, both angel and demon were curled up together in the back of Aziraphale’s bookshop- which he had closed for the day- pampering each other and drinking hot cocoa was deemed the perfect way to spend their day by both Crowley and Aziraphale. 

Their morning consisted of Crowley cooking breakfast for the both of them (which was crepes, naturally.) and Aziraphale reading tales of lovers caught up in the french revolution, consulting detectives and their right hand-men, but the demons favourite story had actually been one of Aesop's fables- The Horse, The Hunter, and The Stag. Sure he liked the moral, but the true reason he liked the tale so much was the way his angel read it to him. Such a short story was brought to life by the angels' voice and the light in his eyes as he scanned the words. 

Crowley leaned into every word, his head perched on Aziraphale’s shoulder as he spoke the delicate words that once belonged to Aesop, the sweet, musky smell of the pages graced his nose. Just like cinnamon buns, plants and Aziraphale’s cologne- the smell of old books was one Crowley enjoyed immensely - another reason why the demon adored coming to the bookshop.

Lunch consisted of sandwiches, and a pot of tea- hearty conversation ensued. The two sat in comfort, happy to be with each other. Crowley wondered how he got so lucky, Aziraphale wondered what they would have for dinner that evening. But he was also wondering how this beautiful man that sat before him got so... Perfect? Amazing? Wonderful? He smiled softly at his demonic counterpart, a small blush tinted his cheeks a light peachy colour.

After clearing away the dishes Crowley retreated back to the sofa, summoning himself his collection of assorted nail polishes- they were mostly blacks and coppers although there was a select few that were soft shades of assorted colours - and chose out his signature black. He began painting his nails, starting from his pinky along to his thumb, taking his time and keeping up precision. Aziraphale walked over to him, curious as to what he was up to; eyes lighting up when he saw.

“Hullo Angel.” the demon mumbled, focusing only on the small brush in his fingers. “Hello dear,” he sat down beside the busy demon- observing his movements. “Can I paint your other hand?” Aziraphale asked as he picked up one of the small bottles from the collection, reading the small print. Crowley looked up at his angel, smiling “There is nothing that I would like more, Angel.” 

Aziraphale clapped a little and took the brush and bottle, being careful not to spill any. He dipped the brush in the liquid and tapped off the excess, placing the bottle on the coffee table beside him and taking the hand he was working on in his own. The angel took his time, making sure to stay within the vicinity of the nail. 

Crowley watched intently, he had nothing but love for the angel in front of him; the angel who improved him at every fault, the angel who had nothing but love for everything on God's earth, the angel who he had fallen in love with 10 x over- to the moon and back, to infinity and beyond, no matter how cheesy it may seem it was all so true. He had so much respect and love for Aziraphale yet the angel seemed oblivious to his feelings. The demon had promised himself back in the 1940’s that he wouldn't get hung up over the angel who was currently painting his nails, and yet he fell again- harder and further than last time.

“Crowleyy..” Aziraphale waved a hand in front of his eyes, “Are you with me, dear?” the demon quickly snapped out of it “Sorry Angel, I was miles off,” he grinned “what were you saying?” 

“I was sayingggg, I'm all finished!” he grinned widely, showing off his handiwork to the demon. 

“I love it! Thank you!” Not a word of a lie, thought Crowley “May I return the favour?” He smirked, already knowing what colour he would choose. Of course, Aziraphale agreed, quite enthusiastically he might add. 

\----

After a while, Crowley placed the small brush back in its respective bottle “Aaaand.. We are done!” Crowley smiled, screwing the cap back on his bottle of nail-polish, “You can open your eyes now, Angel.”, the angel did as he was instructed and looked down at his nails, which were now a pale shade of coral and smiled softly “Thank you so much, my dear!” he hugged the demon, careful not to smudge his polish on the furniture or Crowley.

Crowley smiled softly, humming to himself as he put away all of his little bottles, placing them in a drawer within the kitchenette area of the back-shop. Aziraphale smiled at the demon before admiring his new nails. He really did love the colour that Crowley had chosen for him, it was in fact one of his favourite colours (which he had decided at that moment) and had made sure to take a mental note of the name of the polish too ‘Ocean Sugar’ a very fitting name indeed.

The evening came and went within the blink of an eye and soon enough it was time for some tea and if they were being honest, both angel and demon couldn't be bothered cooking that night and ended up ordering take-out- Chinese food and a couple of bottles of wine, snuggled together in front of Azirapale’s tiny television that had one bent antenna and a vast range of channels. Not that Crowley had mattered, he knew that Aziraphale didn't care for any mass of material objects besides his books and clothes- he was just happy that he could spend time with his friend of 6000 years and love interest for the last Satan knows how many years.

Both Angel and Demon fell asleep on that couch that night, Aziraphale entwined in the arms of Crowley- and he wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
